


What Was Lost

by pooh_collector



Category: White Collar
Genre: AU ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e11 Checkmate, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pooh_collector/pseuds/pooh_collector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt from RabidChild67:  Let’s just suppose that Checkmate didn’t go quite as we saw, El was never rescued, even though Peter tore down heaven and earth to find her, and Keller got away with the treasure. </p>
<p>Fast forward a few weeks or months and even though they haven’t spoken to each other outside of the case, Neal is the one to bring El home to Peter. How’s Peter react? How does El? Do they find their way back together, all three of them? </p>
<p>Notes:  I'm slowly reposting all the fic I've written for White Collar to A03.  There are still about 10 to go.  I'll get there eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Was Lost

Before Neal climbed into the hidden niche in the back of the jury-rigged truck with Keller he pulled Peter aside, out of view. Neal dragged Peter in close by the lapels of his camouflage uniform jacket and rested his forehead against his partner’s.

He breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of Peter, a combination of Suave shampoo, spicy aftershave and sweat. “We’ll get her back, I promise,” Neal whispered.

“Neal, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Peter replied sternly, shaking his head, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I can keep it. I will keep it. I love you both too much to see this end any other way.”

Peter looked down into his lover’s azure eyes reading the sincerity there. Trusting Neal was always a sticky proposition but Peter wanted to now, with all his heart. He pulled Neal in tighter and kissed him hard. A kiss filled with need and a longing for promises to be kept.

***

In the end Keller got the treasure. But, apparently that wasn’t enough for him; he kept Elizabeth.

When they couldn’t reach Neal, Peter and Mozzie attempted to cut off Keller’s escape. But even with their FBI backup they failed to intercept Keller and he disappeared into the ether, with the truck and its priceless art. One of the teams found Neal unconscious, dumped on the side of the road a mile from the warehouse.

With Keller gone, Peter and his team were frantic, following up every conceivable possibility in an attempt to find Elizabeth. Their lead on Keller’s accomplice went dead somewhere on 23rd street when no sign of the man or Elizabeth was found despite hours of canvassing.

Meanwhile, Neal was diagnosed with a level five concussion and spent that night confined to a bed in the hospital.

After hours of tossing and turning through the concussion induced headache and the accompanying dizziness and nausea Neal checked himself out of the hospital AMA and headed straight to Federal Plaza. He knew from Mozzie that Keller had not kept his promise and that Elizabeth was still missing. Neal had failed her and Peter.

Walking through the glass doors he felt the tension and kinetic frisson in the office descend on him like a shroud, a palpable manifestation of the regret he felt at being played by Keller and losing Elizabeth. No one looked up when he entered; everyone intent on their tasks.

Neal turned his attention toward Peter’s office and had to steady himself with a hand on the glass door behind him as dizziness engulfed him. When his vision finally cleared he saw Mozzie and Peter standing there, their heads bent over Peter’s desk.

Neal took the stairs up to the second level slowly, gulping back on his nausea and anxiety. He hadn’t spoken to Peter since that stolen moment in the warehouse. Neal had left him two voicemails, but Peter hadn’t called him back. He was responsible for this; he knew that and he didn’t blame Peter for faulting him.

He stood in the doorway of Peter’s office for a moment unnoticed while Peter and Mozzie continued their confab. Then Peter looked up. For just a moment Neal thought he saw relief on Peter’s face, but Peter quickly schooled his expression into an unreadable mask.

“Peter.”

“What are you doing here Neal?” Peter’s voice was clipped and tinged with anger.

Neal reeled as if Peter’s words had been a left hook to the jaw. He had anticipated that Peter would be angry, but he never thought that Peter would turn away his help in finding Elizabeth. “I want to help you find Elizabeth.”

Peter took in Neal’s paste-white complexion, the dark circles, the glassy glaze to his eyes and knew his partner should still be in the hospital. “I called the hospital this morning. They said they were keeping you until tomorrow.”

Neal straightened his shoulders preparing to stand his ground. “I need to be here Peter.”

Peter scrutinized him for another moment and then nodded. Mozzie scooted around the desk to make room for Neal to join them. They were reviewing a detailed map of the city on which Mozzie had marked every place he had ever seen Keller or had known him to go.

***

Peter barely knew how to breathe without Elizabeth. He didn’t blame Neal for what had happened, for Keller’s escape, not really. But he couldn’t deal with his feelings for Neal now. With Elizabeth gone, it felt like caring about Neal, loving Neal, was a betrayal his love for his wife, despite the fact that the three of them had been in a relationship together for months now.

So Peter ignored Neal’s calls and texts, pretending that he was just too busy with the search for El. When they were in the office together Peter was all business. Gone were the little looks he used to share with his partner, the ones that said “I love you” or “God, I can’t wait to get you alone”, or “I can’t decide whether to kick you or kiss you right now.” Gone were the gentle touches, his hand on the small of Neal’s back, a warm clasp on Neal’s shoulder.

Peter thought that Neal understood. He didn’t press things with Peter. He didn’t ask why Peter was keeping him at arm’s length. He didn’t try to get Peter alone. He hadn’t once come to the house except with Mozzie or Diana and Jones to work on the case.

And, if Neal looked a little pale, if lines of strain were evident around his eyes, if his suits looked a little loose, if his brilliant smile was nowhere to be seen, Peter could chalk it up to the hours they were all putting in looking for El. His partner would be fine; they would all be fine once they found her.

Peter was working alone in his office when Diana knocked on the door.  “What’s up Di?”

“Boss, I think you need to have Mozzie take Neal home.”

“Oh?” Peter replied, his eyebrows rising. It was late, Peter wasn’t really sure how late, but the summer sun had set long ago. They had all been working crazy hours trying to find El. Perhaps Diana simply thought Neal looked tired, or that he was pushing himself too hard.

Diana really didn’t want to interfere, but the new estrangement between Peter and Neal was becoming problematic. Peter was rightfully intent on getting Elizabeth back. He had been laser focused in a way that Diana had never seen before. But just over a week had gone by since Neal had been attacked by Keller and every day he looked a little worse, sick and heartbroken. The fact that Peter seemed oblivious was strange considering how hyperaware Peter had always been of even the slightest change in Neal.

“He’s trying to pretend otherwise, but he’s got a really nasty post-concussion headache.” Diana replied. “From the way he’s squinting, I’m pretty sure he can’t even see straight right now.”

Peter frowned. “Okay, will you send Mozzie up here?”

Two minutes later Moz was standing just inside his door. “Suit.”

“Do me a favor and take Neal home.”

Mozzie rolled his eyes, shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh before relying. “I’ve been trying to do just that for the past two hours. He won’t listen to me. If you think you’ll have better luck, be my guest.” Mozzie flourished a hand toward the door in the way of invitation.

Peter had been hoping he could avoid actually talking to Neal. It was easier to pretend that he had pushed his feelings for his partner aside when he could avoid him altogether. But, it looked like that avoidance could only go so far.

Peter steeled himself, squared his shoulders and preceded Mozzie out of his office and down to Neal’s desk.

Neal was hunched over a detailed map of the subway system, including all of its adjacent service tunnels. He seemed focused, his brow furrowed, as he scanned the drawing in front of him. But Diana had been right, Neal was actually squinting and Peter could see even from where he was standing Neal’s hand where he ran it along the map was shaking.

“Neal.”

Neal looked up startled by Peter’s voice. “Peter?”

“I think you should go home for the night. Get some sleep. You can start fresh tomorrow.” Peter said gently.

Neal just stared up at Peter, apparently speechless. “You want me to go?” He finally asked.

His face read pure rejection. Peter felt like a heel. He had barely spoken to Neal in more than a week and now he was telling him to leave. Of course he didn’t mean it the way Neal was talking it, but he couldn’t blame his partner for interpreting it that way.

Peter walked around the desk and squatted down so he could be eye level with Neal. Peter wanted so much to touch him, to reassure him, but he held back afraid of crossing the line he had drawn when El was abducted.

“No Neal, I don’t want you to go. But you’re exhausted and I could feel that headache you’ve got all the way up in my office. I want you to go home, rest and come back in the morning, okay?”

Neal still looked dejected but he slowly nodded in agreement.

“Mozzie’s going to take you home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mozzie stood ready with Neal’s jacket and hat. He helped Neal up and led him out of the White Collar offices as Peter stood and watched wondering if the perfect life he had had with El and Neal just a mere eight days ago could ever be recaptured.

When they reached Neal’s apartment Neal went straight to his bed and tumbled into it fully dressed. Mozzie waited a whole five minutes for Neal’s breathing to even out; then he went over and carefully removed Neal’s shoes before covering him with the afghan from the end of the bed.

“Sleep well mon frère,” Moz whispered before moving off to settle in on Neal’s sofa.

***

Neal woke up long after the sun had risen the next morning. He felt a bit better. His headache had retreated to the dull throb that had become normal for him. It was already late, Mozzie had already gone, so Neal decided to take his time. As much as he needed to be helping with the search for Elizabeth, Neal was finding it increasingly difficult to cope with Peter’s distance. Peter avoided speaking to him, looking at him and when he did there was no sign of the love that Neal knew Peter had felt for him, not even of the friendship that had been the concrete building block for their mutual affection. The hurt was more than Neal was really capable of handling at the moment. Between his guilt over the loss of Elizabeth, the anxiety and stress over the search for her and Peter’s detachment, Neal felt constantly overwhelmed.

He took a long shower, dressed and then sat at his dining table with his coffee. There was a pile of mail in front of him that he began to idly flip through. About a quarter of the way through the stack Neal found a postcard. The picture on the front was an exterior of the Winter Gallery in midtown. On the back - a chess move.

Neal’s breathing hitched, his heart sped up. Keller. Elizabeth.

Neal reached the office in record time. He found Moz in the conference room with Jones and the Harvard crew.

“Moz, can I talk to you.” Neal asked ducking his head into the open doorway.

Neal was attempting to keep his expression neutral, but Mozzie could see right through Neal’s guise to the urgency and anxiety that lay beneath.

Neal led the way through the back of the department offices and into a secondary stairwell.

“What’s going on Neal?” Mozzie asked as soon as the fire door had closed behind them.

Neal pulled something from his inside his jacket. His hands shook as he presented it to Mozzie. “I found this in my mail.” Neal’s voice was shaking now too. His veneer was gone and Moz could see Neal’s anguish plainly.

Mozzie took the postcard from Neal’s hand. He knew immediately what he was holding. He noted the image on the front and the chess move on the back.

“What the hell game is Keller playing now?” Mozzie asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Elizabeth,” Neal whispered. “Why else would he contact me now?”

“We need to show this to Peter.” Moz concluded. He turned to exit the stairwell, but Neal grabbed hold of his arm roughly.

“No Moz, we can’t.”

Mozzie turned back to his friend. “Neal, she’s his wife.”

“That’s exactly why we can’t tell him.” Neal reasoned.

“Think about it. What if this is just another of Keller’s sick games? What if he leads us nowhere? What if,” Neal hesitated choking on his words. “What if all we find is her body? I can’t put Peter through that.”

Moz hesitated, weighing Neal’s words against his better judgment.

“Moz,” Neal pleaded.

“Alright, for now. How do you want to proceed?”

Neal shrugged. “Check out the gallery. Make sure there’s nothing there for us to find.”

Mozzie nodded. “Okay let’s go. Maybe we can get back before Peter even notices we’ve gone.”

Neal’s face darkened. Yet further proof to Moz that Peter’s new estrangement toward Neal was quickly destroying his friend.

Moz squeezed Neal’s arm briefly and then led the way out of the Federal Building.

Nothing turned up at the gallery. But two days later there was another postcard with another move for the same pawn the game had started with. And three days after that another move for that same poor pawn.

By the time the fourth postcard came Neal was a complete and utter wreck. Keller’s game had succeeded in breaking Neal where Peter’s coldness had only managed to crack him.

He had stopped going to the office. He had stopped leaving June’s house. He spent his days pacing his apartment trying to figure out Keller’s game, waiting anxiously for more postcards and imaging every worst case scenario his brilliant and creative mind could come up with.

***

Peter checked Neal’s tracking data daily. He was worried about his partner but he had no energy to spare. Elizabeth had been missing for 18 days. Everything he had, everything he was was now dedicated to finding her, to getting her back for himself and for Neal.

That had to be his focus now, his only focus. When she was back, whole and safe, then Peter would have the time and the ability to deal with whatever was going on with Neal.

Things were further complicated by the fact that Elizabeth’s kidnapping had been turned over to Missing Persons. Peter was working with Kimberly Rice and the rest of the White Collar team had moved on to other cases under their own purview.

Peter understood the reasons for this but he missed the assurance that working with his own team afforded him. It helped that Mozzie had been relentless in his efforts to help Peter. Even while Neal had disappeared into his own world, Moz had been at the office or on the street working everyday to find El.

***

Exactly three weeks after Keller took Elizabeth the fifth and final postcard arrived. Just like all the others the Winter Gallery graced the front of the card. On the back was written a final and decidedly illegal move for the only piece, the pawn,that had ever moved in the game. Next to it a large X was emblazoned on the card and in its center was a stylized drawing of the number 62 in Roman numerals.

As soon as Neal saw it he pulled a street map up on his laptop and followed the moves of the pawn, one square block at a time starting at the Winter Gallery and ending at 62 83rd Street.

Moments later he was dialing Mozzie’s number. As soon as Moz picked up the words flew from Neal’s mouth, “I know where she is Moz.”

“What? Where?” Mozzie asked, his tone a mixture of relief and disbelief.

“Eighty-third Street, 62.”

“I’ll get Peter. We’ll meet you there.”

“Moz, NO. If I’m wrong, if Keller is just playing out some sick game…” Neal couldn’t finish his thought.

“So you’ll spare the Suit but not yourself?”

“I brought Keller into their lives. Peter shouldn’t have to suffer any more for that.” Neal insisted.

Mozzie sighed. “Fine. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. Do NOT go in without me. It could still be some sort of trap.”

Thirty minutes later Mozzie found Neal wearing a hole in the sidewalk outside of a typical-looking New York brownstone at 62 W. 83rd.

Neal looked even worse than the last time Moz had seen him three days ago. His skin was so pale as to be nearly translucent. His eyes were dull, the skin beneath them nearly black. He was uncharacteristically dressed in jeans which hung off his too narrow hips and a tee shirt that once upon a time had been fitted and clean.

When he saw Mozzie approaching Neal grabbed the bag he had dropped on the bottom step of the brownstone’s entrance and started up the stairs.

“Neal, wait! What if somebody’s home?” Mozzie stage whispered.

Neal didn’t hesitate. By the time Moz reached him Neal had disengaged the deadbolt on the door and was working on the latch lock.

“I cased it before you got here. There’s no one living here.”

Neal had the door open moments later. The interior of the building was dark, illuminated only by the light coming through the open doorway and random shafts leaking through the mostly covered windows. The first floor appeared to be completely empty from their vantage point. The only thing Neal could see in the space were dust motes dancing in the beams of light that filtered in.

Neal made to step into the foyer and Moz put a hand out to stop him.

“We do this right. We’re dealing with Keller, remember?”

Neal hesitated, his desire to get inside and find Elizabeth warring with his sense of caution. Eventually he nodded his acceptance.

“I assume you bought a flashlight.” Mozzie said.

Neal reached down to his bag and pulled out a large maglight and handed it to Moz. Mozzie swirled it around the inside of the doorway searching for any sign of wires, traps or any other little surprises.

Finding nothing, they proceeded from there through the empty first floor and then the second and the third finding nothing, not an intentional clue or even an unintentional telltale footprint in the heavy dust. By the time they had completed their circuit of the third floor Neal knew he had lost one last chess game to Keller. He had fallen hook, line and sinker for Keller’s sadistic tease. Elizabeth wasn’t here, she never was.

Neal felt the spark of hope he had been living on for the past three weeks flame out. The ability to breathe deserted him and before he even realized it he had fallen to his hands and knees on the parquet floor gasping.

Mozzie was beside him a moment later his hand hovering uncertainly over Neal’s back.  
“She’s dead Moz. He killed her. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” Neal sobbed, his tears staining the dust-coated floor below him.

Mozzie finally dropped his hand down onto Neal’s heaving back in an attempt to steady his friend. “You don’t know that. Until we find her, you can’t give up on her.”

“Don’t you get it?” Neal yelled scooting away from Mozzie and falling over onto his butt. “She’s gone Moz!”

Mozzie stood and glared down at his friend. “I refuse to accept that,” he stated calmly. “She deserves better than that.”

Moz moved over to the bag of tools and picked it up. “I’m going to check the basement. You can sit here on your ass wallowing in self pity or you can come and help me. It’s your choice.”

With that he turned and left the room. Neal could hear him clomping down the creaking stairs determined and sure. Mozzie was right. He was wallowing in self pity. He should be thinking about Elizabeth and Peter, not his loss, not his pain.

Neal dropped his head into his hands and took a moment to get this breathing under control. His headache pounded persistently behind his eyes. Things would be so much easier if the damn thing would just leave him alone, even for an hour or two.

Neal sighed, gingerly picked himself up off the floor, brushed the coating of dust off his jeans and followed Mozzie down the stairs.

By the time Neal reached him Mozzie was standing at the top of the basement steps shrouded in an almost eerie light that emanated from the basement.

“Moz?”

Mozzie turned to Neal and shrugged. “I just flicked the switch and it came on. I’m not even sure why I tried it.”

They took the stairs down eagerly but carefully, hopeful that they would finally find what Keller had left for them in the brownstone’s cellar.

The space had never been fully finished. The floor was just a concrete slab, the walls plain red brick. They moved through the basement looking for anything other than cobwebs that might lead them to Elizabeth. The space was empty. Neal’s heart sank and the hopelessness that had descended on him upstairs came crashing in again.

“There’s nothing here, Moz,” he mumbled not even trying to hide the desolation he felt.

“There has to be,” Moz replied forcefully. “Keller would have left something for us to find, even if it was just another postcard, or a way to say ‘got ya’. That snake has too much ego for anything less.”

Neal nodded in agreement. Mozzie had a point. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to find a way to focus on the task at hand despite how disheartened he felt. The working overhead light was more than likely a clue. What they were looking for was here, somewhere in the basement. He picked a corner at random and started carefully scanning the brick walls. When Mozzie saw what Neal was doing he moved to the opposite corner and started working his way toward Neal.

Halfway through the north wall Neal found what he was looking for. “Mozzie!” He called out to his friend. “Over here.”

Moz scrambled across the space to Neal’s side. “It’s a false wall.” Neal whispered excitedly.

Mozzie looked closely at the microscopic crack Neal was pointing to. This was good work. Whoever had installed this knew what they were doing.

It took another five minutes for Neal and Mozzie working together to find the brick that hid the panel with the locking mechanism. It was electronic and very sophisticated. Moz had never seen one like it before. Neal took out his fine tools from his bag and began unscrewing the face from the panel. His hands were shaking so badly from the anticipation, the possibility of finding Elizabeth just inside the hidden door,that the screwdriver kept slipping away from the screws.

“I’ll do it,” Mozzie said prying the screwdriver away from Neal’s hand.

Neal nodded gratefully and moved aside for Moz.

Despite Moz’s significantly steadier hand it took some time for the two of them to figure out how to bypass the system and get the door to slide forward and away on its well hidden hinges.

***

Elizabeth had lost track of the days some time ago. Her Movado was beautiful but it was analog and had no date function. She was pretty sure that she had been in her well-stocked prison for more than two weeks now, but beyond that it was pretty hazy.

When Keller had brought her here, blindfolded, she had done her best to pay attention, to try and figure out where she was, in the hope that it would help her escape. There had been the creak of wooden floors and then hollow-sounding stairs leading down to what smelled distinctly like a musty basement. Her heels scraped against concrete as she was maneuvered across the space by Keller’s hand on her elbow.

When he finally released her he said, “Welcome to your new and final home Mrs. Burke.”

She took off her blindfold and found herself in a small room with minimal furnishing and boxes stacked floor to ceiling against one wall.

She spun to glare at Keller.

“I wish I could stick around to see you settle in,” he continued, “but I have a cargo plane loaded with treasure to catch.” And, then he was gone, out through a door that closed with a thud of finality. She went to it immediately to try the latch, but she found none. There were no visible hinges; nothing that she could find that would help her get through the heavy door. She spent a good couple of hours searching the door and the walls around it for anything that would lead to a way out.

Finding nothing she decided to regroup and access her prison. It turned out to be an old bomb shelter. There was a table with two chairs, a small, narrow bed, a slop sink with no faucet but a drain, and a counter along one wall that held some plastic utensils and a few plastic cups, plates and bowls.

In the boxes she discovered quite a few gallon jugs of water and a variety of canned and boxed foods. In a corner that she had not originally noticed, there was a small port-o-john type chemical toilet built into the cement floor.

Elizabeth knew Keller well enough to know that if he had wanted her dead, she would be dead. He hated Neal, envied him and possibly Peter as well, but he held no ill feelings toward her and so this wasn’t about torturing her while she waited slowly to die, alone and trapped. This was clearly set up to be a cruel, final game between himself and Neal and Peter.

Elizabeth also knew Peter and Neal and she was confident that they would find her. So she spent her days pacing the small space to keep active, eating three meals a day, using her water supply sparingly, but still keeping herself clean and the space tidy. She didn’t want them to find her any the worse for wear.

Despite all the work she had done to continually remind herself that her men would find her and that she would be safe and whole and in their arms again soon, Elizabeth found herself shaking in relief when the door to the shelter finally squeaked on its hidden hinges, moved forward and then out into the basement.

***

As the door opened and light streamed through from the other side, Neal knew that they had found Elizabeth. He rushed into the space adrenaline fueling his movements and found her standing there beside a small table.

“El, oh El,” he exclaimed as he made his way to her and pulled her into his embrace. The solace that he felt was so overwhelming that his mind had nearly lost the ability to process his new reality. She was safe and in his arms.

Neal never called her El, since that first day when he showed up on her doorstep in that gorgeous, form-fitting black turtleneck, it had always been Elizabeth. His use of her nickname now sounded like complete acceptance to Elizabeth, like the last roadblock through Neal’s walls had finally been breached and that he truly belonged to her and Peter.

She held him to her tightly feeling safe and whole for the first time since Keller had taken her. Neal was trembling badly, his breathing heavy and fast so she squeezed him even tighter to reassure him and herself that he had succeeded and that she was now found.

“I’m here baby. It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothed.

Neal clung to her whispering her name over and over for several minutes until he was finally able to pull himself together enough to hold her at arm’s length, to take a closer look at her and ensure himself that she wasn’t hurt in any way.

“You’re alright, you’re not hurt at all?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” she replied with a smile. “Maybe a little vitamin D deficient, but I’m fine. Better than fine really, you’re here. You found me.”

He turned his head toward Mozzie. “I had some help.”

“Thank you Mozzie.” Elizabeth said turning her smile on her friend.

“Normally I would say anytime, Elizabeth, but under these circumstances I will simply say it was my duty and my honor.” He replied with a deep bow.

“Where’s Peter?” Elizabeth asked looking past Neal for her husband.

“He’s … he didn’t come with us.” Neal answered.

Elizabeth caught the hint of something uncertain in Neal’s voice. “Oh?”

In an effort to avoid answering El’s unspoken question, Neal reached over to Mozzie. “Moz let me have your phone.”

Mozzie looked at Neal skeptically for moment then seemed to come to some realization before handing his cell over to Neal.

Neal quickly found Peter’s number in Mozzie’s speed dial and handed the phone over to Elizabeth.

Peter answered on the second ring. “Mozzie tell me you’ve got something for me.”

Elizabeth smiled at the sound of his voice. “He’s got something for you all right, me.”

“Elizabeth?” Peter’s voice sounded incredulous.

“Hi, hon.”

“Oh my god, El. Where are you?”

“You know I still don’t know. Neal where are we?”

Peter heard the sound of Neal’s voice in the background. “62 83rd Street.”

“Did you catch that Peter?”

“I did. Are you safe?”

“I’m fine, we’re all fine.”

“Stay right there.” Peter demanded. “I’m on my way. I love you.”

“I love you too. We’ll be waiting.”

Twenty minutes later Peter screeched to a halt on the street just in front of the address Neal had provided. Diana and Jones were right behind him in her SUV. What he saw on the sidewalk was the most magnificent sight of his life. His beautiful wife was standing there shining in the sun, smiling over at him, Neal and Mozzie standing protectively on either side of her.

Peter was out his car and in his wife’s arms in seconds flat. “Oh El,” he murmured into her hair.

“I’m okay, hon. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? Keller didn’t hurt you?” Peter asked, pulled back from his wife just enough to look into her eyes.

“I’m sure. He didn’t hurt me. I’ve been on my own here for weeks.”

Peter glanced up at the innocuous looking brownstone before them. “Here? You’ve been here all along.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Since the day after he took me. There’s a bomb shelter in the basement. The door was rigged to only open from the outside.”

Peter scowled and turned to where Diana and Jones were standing on the sidewalk talking to Mozzie. “Jones, Diana check it out, carefully.” He ordered indicating the building with a nod of his head.

“On it Boss.” Diana replied as she and Jones turned and climbed the steps to the front door.

Peter pulled Elizabeth close to his side wrapping an arm protectively around her back and then focused his attention on Mozzie. “How did you find her?”

“Keller and Neal. Keller sent Neal postcards. Starting about a week after he made his escape. They contained chess moves that Neal was able to translate into the directions here.”

“Are you telling me that Neal was receiving communications from Keller for two weeks and neither of you said a single word to me?” Peter fumed.

“Neal had his reasons and I agreed.” Mozzie replied defensively. “Do you have any idea what this has been like for him these last two weeks, while Keller toyed with him? We had no idea what game Keller was playing. We hoped that Keller was leading us to Elizabeth, but we couldn’t know for sure. Part of Neal was convinced that all we would find was some sort of ‘screw you I got the last laugh’. More than anything he was afraid that we would find Elizabeth dead.”

Mozzie glared up at Peter a moment before continuing. “He wanted to spare you that. That’s why he didn’t tell you. He took this on himself to spare you any more hurt.”

“Oh Mozzie,” Elizabeth said pulling him into a rather awkward embrace because of Peter clinging to her other side. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Out of all of us, you’re the one innocent in this. None of this was your doing. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m sorry anyway.” She repeated. “I’m sorry that you all had to go through this and I’m so very grateful to you for helping Neal find me.” She kissed his cheek and then released him.

“For you Mrs. Suit, any thing, any time.”

“Where is Neal?” Peter asked finally noticing that his partner was no longer on the street with them.

“He left just after you arrived.” Mozzie replied looking down the street in the direction his friend had gone toward Central Park.

“What? Why?” Peter asked perplexed.

“I think you know why Suit. I believe that I will take my leave now as well. Don’t bother to try and contact me again with the number you’ve been using.” Mozzie turned toward Elizabeth again. “Elizabeth, I’ll be in touch.”

And, then he was gone down the street.

“Hon, what did Mozzie mean about Neal?”

Peter sighed. “I think that conversation should wait until we’re home, but first I’m taking you to the ER to get checked out.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I’ll go see my own doctor tomorrow if you insist, but I’m absolutely fine. I just want to go home now.”

Peter took a moment to assess his wife and then nodded his agreement. If he was honest with himself that was all Peter wanted to, to take his wife home, hold her close and try to forget the horror his life had been these past three weeks.

***

Neal barely made it up to his apartment before he was on his knees dry heaving into the toilet. Another leftover from his concussion, Neal was truly sick of feeling sick. The nausea and the vomiting sucked and these bouts of worshipping the porcelain god made the pain in his head flare to an indescribable level.

When he was finally done, he laid his arms across the toilet seat and rested his head on them while he waited for his headache to scale back to a more reasonable level. He stayed like that for a good twenty minutes before Mozzie found him and helped him to his bed.

After Moz got Neal settled in the bed and dosed with Advil he headed downstairs to give Neal some space and to visit with June and fill her in on the news that Elizabeth had been found safe.

Once Moz had shut the door to Neal’s apartment behind him, Neal felt the tears he had been holding back for the last three weeks begin to slide down his cheeks. He was incredibly grateful for Mozzie’s help, through everything since Keller had come back into their lives, but what he really wanted, needed, was Peter and Elizabeth.

He understood why he couldn’t be with them, why he would never be with them again, not in the way that mattered, but it hurt. Without him Keller would never have known the Burke’s existed. Keller would never have taken Peter. He would never had kidnapped Elizabeth. They never would have had to suffer through that fear and the loss had it not been for his own place in their lives.

Neal curled himself into a tight ball, tucking the covers in around himself and waited for the Advil to dull his headache enough so that he could give in to his exhaustion and sleep.

***

Elizabeth was nestled against her husband on the couch in their home. Peter had the Yankees game on with the sound off, his head was resting against the top of hers. It felt so good this normal, summer’s night activity. But something was missing, someone was missing, and it was time for Elizabeth to find out why.

“Peter, what happened between you and Neal?”

“Nothing,” Peter replied a little too quickly.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Elizabeth asked as she pulled away from Peter’s side so she could face him.

“El...It’s not that simple.” He hedged.

“Then please explain it to me. I miss him Peter.”

Peter looked away from his wife’s gaze. “I do too.” His voice was laden with what El heard as guilt.

“Do you blame him, for my kidnapping?”

“No,” Peter replied emphatically. “I know that was Keller. I don’t even blame him for Keller escaping with the treasure.”

“Okay, then what?”

“I needed to focus to finding you. I needed you back El, and that meant I couldn’t...I didn’t have anything left for Neal.” It was difficult to explain to Elizabeth what he had felt when she was gone, knowing that he may never have another evening like this one with her again, that he might never hold her or see her alive again.

“Are you saying you don’t love him anymore?” Elizabeth clearly didn’t understand what Peter was trying to express.

“No, I mean yes, of course I still love him. I always will.” Peter took El’s hand in his own. “But I,” Peter hesitated, sighing. “I needed to put my feelings for him away. I couldn’t betray you.”

“Betray me?” Elizabeth squeezed Peter’s hand. “Peter,” she said shaking her head. “You would never betray me. You’re not capable of it.”

“But don’t you see El? Every moment I could have spent with Neal, loving him, caring for him, was time that I wouldn’t have been looking for you. If we never got you back, how would I have justified that to myself, how would I have been able to stay with him and not grow to resent him knowing that he may have kept me from you?”

“But Peter, Neal found me.” El reminded him.

“I know. But, it’s still not that simple El. In not betraying you, I ending up betraying him. I made a choice, I choose you and Neal knows it. I’m not sure how to fix that.”

“We’ll do it together.” El replied, pulling Peter into her arms “We’ll make it right.”

***

The next morning Neal made the assumption that Peter would still be at home with Elizabeth so he sent Diana a text saying that he had a headache and wouldn’t able to come in to work. Then he curled back up in his bed.

He just needed some time to get used to the idea that he was alone again. It would be hard to continue to see Peter at the office, to work with him, but Neal was nothing if not resilient. He would make it work, he had to.  
It was the nights that would actually be harder, Neal imagined. When he would really be alone, without Peter or Elizabeth.

Neal spent the morning letting himself drift in and out of sleep. He had no energy for or interest in doing anything else. At some point Neal heard someone come into his apartment. He turned his head into his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

There was movement in the kitchen and then the someone came and sat on the edge of his bed. A familiar hand landed gently on his chest and then warm lips kissed him on the temple.

“Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?” El asked in a whisper.

“I’m fine. Why are you here Elizabeth?” Neal said, keeping his head tucked into his pillow and his eyes closed.

“Because Diana said you weren’t feeling well. And, I wanted to be with you.”

Neal turned onto his back and opened his eyes. Elizabeth looked so beautiful. Her blue eyes were radiant, her raven hair spilled over her shoulders to where it just grazed against his chest. Her presence was a white light permeating the emptiness that now encompassed him. He had never loved her more.

“Peter’s right, you shouldn’t be around me, neither of you.” He said.

“And why is that?” El asked.

Neal looked up at her incredulously. “El you were kidnapped and held for three weeks. And Keller could have done so much worse.”

“But he didn’t and what he did do, HE did Neal, not you sweetie.”

El was brushing Neal’s fringe away from his forehead. It was comforting and distracting, making it harder for Neal to keep his resolve. “Keller would never have known about you, you or Peter if it wasn’t for me. You would have been safe.”

“Oh sweetie, do you think for one moment that I would trade what we have, the three of us, to be safe, whatever that means. I love you Neal, Peter and I both love you and that’s not conditional.”

“I would,” Neal said sadly, “I would trade it all to keep you safe, you and Peter.”

El leaned down and kissed Neal sweetly, a light brushing of her lips against his. “I know, and that’s why I love you. That and this incredible body of yours. Oh, and the blue eyes and this curl your have right over your forehead.” She added giving his forelock a gentle tug.

There, just the hint of a smile. It was working, El realized, she was breaking him down. “Come on I brought lunch, chicken salad and peach cobbler. But first mister, you need a shower.”

Neal groaned and tried to bury his head back into his pillows. “Headache, remember?”

“Oh no you don’t. A hot shower and a good meal will do you a world of good. And, I’m not taking no for an answer. Up!” El hopped off the bed, took Neal’s arm and tugged him up into a sitting position.

As soon as he was upright, Neal’s already pale face became impossibly white and his eyes slammed shut as he swayed slightly where he sat. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.” El exclaimed.

“It’s okay,” Neal ground out. “Just sat up too fast.”

He sat there for a minute with his eyes tightly shut riding out the dizziness and the flare of pain the change in position ignited. When he felt more stable he opened his eyes and smiled tightly up at El. “I’m fine.”

Elizabeth nodded and then helped him out of bed and out to the bathroom. Neal started to tug his tee shirt off over his head and Elizabeth gently pushed his hands out of the way. “Let me. Let me help you.”

Elizabeth pulled the shirt off and then bent down to help Neal out of his pajama bottoms. When she stood up again she saw tears streaming down Neal’s cheeks. “Baby what is it?” She asked softly as she wiped at his tears with her thumbs.

Neal felt totally overwhelmed by Elizabeth’s forgiveness, by the love that she was offering him so unreservedly. “I’m so sorry Elizabeth. I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you.”

Elizabeth kissed him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. When she pulled away, she said “Maybe not, but I deserve you.”

She kissed him again, passionately and then pulled off her dress followed by her bra and panties. She turned on the shower and then took him by the hand and guided him under the spray.

At first Neal stood mutely while El kissed him from his jaw line, down his throat and his chest to his left nipple. She kissed it lovingly, and then pulled it hungrily into her mouth sucking hard.

Neal pulled in a sharp breath and wrapped his arms around her. Spurred on by his response El moved her mouth to his other nipple and worried the first now taut nubbin with her fingers.

Neal pressed up against her and El could feel his erection begin to grow against her lower belly. She moved her free hand down between them, wrapped it around him and pulled smoothly, running her thumb along the vein on the underside.

“El,” Neal gasped. El smiled around the nipple in her mouth. Neal had called her El. As a reward she bit down lightly on his nipple while giving a teasing twist to the head of his dick. Neal’s hips surged forward and he shuddered.

That was her cue. She guided Neal over to the small bench at the back of the shower stall and and pushed him down to sit on it. She spread his knees slightly and then straddled him. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she guided his cock into her body.

The feeling of being inside of Elizabeth was almost too much for Neal. He pulled her in against his chest and buried his head in the crook of her neck. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

In reply Elizabeth lifted his head and kissed him deeply as she rocked her hips against his pelvis. She took her time, keeping her pace languid, building the arousal for both of them slowly, carefully. This was about more than the physical act. It was about reassurance and reconnection, something they both needed after the last three weeks.

Eventually she could feel the telltale signs that Neal was getting close. Little tremors began to run through his chest and she could feel his breathing hitch in the midst of a kiss. She wanted them to come together, so she reached down and pressed two fingertips to her clit and rubbed three sharp circles to bring herself right to the edge. When she felt Neal let go she pressed into herself one last time and she came with the warmth of Neal’s cum flooding into her body.

She pulled herself in tighter against him, wanting to feel every quiver, every heaving breath. His head was on her shoulder again, his arms around her. How could she not love this beautiful, gentle man, she thought. He would do anything for her, he did do everything for her.

El continued to hold him while his breathing evened out and the tension drained from his body.

The water was starting to cool and Neal was starting to drift off to sleep when El climbed off his lap and pulled him up. “Come on sweetie, time to get clean.”

She positioned him under the spray and washed his body and his hair while he stood compliantly allowing her to manipulate him. While she was fingering the last of the conditioner out of his hair, she asked “Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m getting there,” Neal replied honestly. She pulled him in for another hug, kissed him and then shuttled him out of the shower to get dry and warm while she quickly washed up herself.

When she climbed out the shower, Neal was sitting on the closed toilet, his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his upturned hands. “Neal?” She asked worriedly. He lifted his head and smiled up at her. It wasn’t even close to the full Caffrey, but it was genuine.

“Just catching my breath. That was some shower.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Neal watched as Elizabeth quickly dried herself off and put her underwear and her dress back on. The look on his face was clearly appreciative.

“Come on Peeping Tom, time to get you dressed and fed. Peter will be here to pick us up in about an hour.”

“Pick us up, where are we going?”

“To the neurologist appointment that you blew off two weeks ago.” El replied disapprovingly.

“Oh.” Neal thought briefly about protesting, but he was tired of feeling like crap and maybe seeing the neurologist would help. “Okay.”

Neal briefly considered wearing something Caffreyesque, but decided he didn’t feel up to the effort, so he pulled on the jeans that had become his usual clothing choice over the past week or so and grabbed a tee shirt. At least the tee was clean he thought as he pulled it on over his head.

Once he was dressed, Elizabeth ushered him to the dining table and placed a plate with chicken salad, a fresh roll, and some cole slaw in front of him. Then she sat beside him with her own plate. “Eat it all and you get dessert,” she promised.

“I thought I already got dessert in the shower.”

“Dessert round two then.”

***

In the well-appointed if mutely decorated waiting room at the neurologist’s office Neal sat quietly between Peter and Elizabeth. When the nurse called him back Peter put his hand on Neal’s knee and squeezed, smiling reassuringly at him. Neal allowed himself a moment to think that maybe Peter would, could forgive him for the hell that he had rained down on their lives and that hopefully they could continue to work together as friends.

Neal was gone for nearly an hour and a half when a distinguished looking man in a white lab coat came out from the examination area and introduced himself to Peter and Elizabeth as Dr. Wyeth.

“Why don’t you come back with me to my office where we can talk.” He suggested.

He led them out of the waiting room and into a well-appointed office with modern furnishings and multiple degrees adorning the walls.

“Please have a seat.” Dr. Wyeth requested indicating the guest chairs that sat in front of his desk. “Neal has asked me to share my findings with both of you.”

“Where is Neal?” Peter asked his voice laced with concern.

“He’s getting dressed. He felt that it would be better if I spoke to you without him present.”

Peter looked at Elizabeth and saw that her face mirrored his own unease.

“Okay,” Peter finally replied. “How is he?”

“The good news is that Neal’s MRI and head CT were clean today, so I do expect him to make a full recovery.”

Peter felt himself relax marginally at that news, but if that was all the doctor had to report, there would be no reason for Neal to want to be out of the room for this meeting. “And, the bad news?”

“The bad news is that Neal has been struggling with some serious post-concussion syndrome symptoms.”

Peter sighed. “I know he’s been having some nasty headaches and some dizziness.”

The doctor nodded. “Neal indicated that he had been attempting to hide the majority of his symptoms from you. It seems he was more successful than he realized. He confided to me that his headache has been persistent since his initial injury. It’s been better or worse at different times, but it hasn’t gone away. The dizziness has been persistent as well. To add to this Neal has been nauseous and has been vomiting every two to three days.”

Elizabeth’s hand found Peter’s where he had it tightly fisted against his thigh.

“Neal also reports that he has been depressed and anxious both of which can also be symptoms of post-concussion syndrome.”

“What can we do to help him?” Elizabeth asked.

“There are medications that I can prescribe. Neal seems to be pretty adamantly against taking anything for the depression or the anxiety. He told me that he has been under a large amount of stress since he was hurt, but that the situation has been more or less resolved. Is this the case?”

Peter nodded. “I can’t go into detail on an open FBI investigation, but yes. Things had been pretty difficult for all of us these past three weeks. But the worst is over now.” Peter squeezed Elizabeth’s hand as he spoke.

“Alright, then my recommendation is that I write Neal a prescription for an anti-nausea medication. Neal and I discussed a pain medication for his headaches, but he decided that he was concerned about side effects and the possibility of rebound headaches when the medication is discontinued. I would like to see him again in a week, to reevaluate how he is feeling and see if we need to add any further medications.”

“What do you need us to do?” Peter asked.

“Keep an eye on him. Make sure that he’s resting, that his stress levels are as low as possible. I understand the obligations of his work release, but I don’t think he should be working, at least not until I see him again next week. He’s clearly lost some weight, I would like to see that stabilized. Hopefully, the anti-nausea medication will help with that. Some light exercise will probably help as well.”

“He’ll come and stay with us for the week.” Elizabeth affirmed. She was speaking to Dr. Wyeth, but looking directly at Peter. Cleary she would brook no argument from her husband on this.

“Good,” Dr. Wyeth replied. He picked up his prescription pad and wrote out the prescription for Neal’s medication and then handed it to Peter.

“Neal should be waiting for us outside.” The doctor said as he got up from behind his desk. Peter and Elizabeth rose and followed him back out to the waiting room, where Neal sat looking like he had been run over by a truck in the last hour and a half. He was slumped in his seat, his face pale and slack, and his eyes were closed. Peter thought he might actually be asleep.

Dr. Wyeth approached Neal and put a hand gently on his knee. “Neal.”

Neal startled and blinked his eyes rapidly. “Peter has your prescription. I’ll see you next week, alright?”

Neal swallowed and then nodded. “It will be an easier visit, I promise. No more MRI’s or CT’s.” The doctor continued.

Neal nodded again. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

Neal started to get up from his seat and Peter put a hand under his elbow to help steady him, mindful of what the doctor had said about Neal’s continued dizziness.

At the contact, Neal turned his head to look at Peter, his eyes dark, his mouth set in a thin line. Peter was struck by how reserved and resigned Neal looked. Peter had thrown something away when he had pushed Neal aside. He hoped he could convince Neal that he wanted it back.

Neal sat in the backseat of the Taurus with his eyes closed all the way to DeKalb Avenue. When Peter pulled up in front of the house Neal looked surprised to be there.

“I shouldn’t be here.” He said to Peter. “You need to be with Elizabeth, taking care of her.”

Peter looked over at his wife, who was sitting next to Neal. The look she gave him in return was very clear, I want Neal here. “I will be with Elizabeth Neal, we both will. That’s what she wants. It’s what I want too.”

Neal turned to Elizabeth looking for confirmation. She nodded to him. “I need you here with us Neal. I knew you and Peter would find me. I never doubted it. But I don’t want to be apart from either of you right now. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.” She leaned across the seat and kissed him firmly hoping it would drive the uncertainty from his face.

Neal couldn’t refuse Elizabeth anything right now. Honestly he never could. So he nodded and got out of the car. El took Neal into the house and straight up to their bedroom. She helped him pull off his tee shirt and jeans and then tucked him into their bed. Before she could turn and walk away, Neal grabbed hold of her wrist. “Don’t go.” He begged.

She kicked off her shoes and climbed in the bed beside him. He rolled onto his side facing her. His expressive face held reverence and gratitude. Once again Elizabeth was overwhelmed by how much she could love him. She brushed that errant lock of his hair away from his forehead and whispered to him, “Close your eyes. Rest now.”

When Peter returned with Neal’s prescription a half hour later he found Neal sound asleep, his breathing deep and even and Elizabeth curled up beside him.

“Hi hon,” he whispered as he bent down to kiss her. “How’s he doing?”

She shrugged. “This whole thing with Keller and my kidnapping, it was hard for me.”

“I know hon.” Peter sympathized as he knelt on the floor beside the bed.

“No, Peter let me finish.” El interjected, taking Peter’s hand in hers. “It was hard for me, but it was hell for you and Neal. When I said I knew you would come for me, I meant it. I knew that I was safe, and that all I had to do was wait and you would find me.

“But you and Neal, you never had that assurance. For all you knew Keller had me killed the moment I got off the phone with you. And the more time that passed, the harder it must have been to imagine finding me alive and safe somewhere.

“I’m okay, I really am and I’m getting better every moment I spend with you both. But, you and Neal I really can only imagine what you felt, how you managed for three weeks without knowing whether I was alive or dead. It’s going to take some time honey, for both of you to feel right with the world again.”

Peter nodded, the grief and the sorrow that he had lived with while El was gone welling up in his chest. “It was not an experience I ever want to relive. I’ve never felt so helpless or lost.”

“You didn’t have to go through it alone Peter.”

Peter sighed. “I thought I did and I’m honestly still not certain I was wrong about that part. But, I was wrong to make Neal go through it alone. I had no idea he was hurting so badly, that he was so sick.”

Peter reached across his wife to place his free hand on one of Neal’s where it lay on top of the bed covers. “I failed him, and I failed you too. But, I’ll make it right El. I will.”

“I know you will Peter. Will you stay with him, while I make us some dinner?”

“Of course.”

Elizabeth got up from the bed careful not to jostle Neal and then Peter laid down in the space his wife had just vacated.

“I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.” She kissed Peter on the lips and then Neal on the forehead and went downstairs.

Peter turned on his side to face his partner. Evidence of the stress and pain that Neal had been dealing with over these past weeks showed plainly on his face. He was still so pale that the dark circles beneath his closed lids looked like eye black. Fine lines were etched in the corners of his eyes and on his forehead.

“I’m so sorry Neal.” Peter murmured.

Neal shifted his position in his sleep, burying his head in Peter’s chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Peter,” Neal mumbled.

“I’m here buddy, I’m right here.” Peter wrapped his own arm around Neal, pulling him closer.

An hour later Elizabeth found them both asleep glued to each other in a tangle of arms and legs. El couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them.

At dinner Peter and Neal spent far more time aimlessly pushing food around their plates than eating. El chattered away, trying to break the mood and the silence, but Neal was resolute in his muteness and Peter only seemed capable of one word responses.

After the plates were cleared she put a beer in Peter’s hand, a tall glass of water in Neal’s and then pushed them both out the door and onto the back patio.

Peter sat with a sigh on one of the lounge chairs and watched Neal as he wandered out onto the lawn. The night was warm, but not muggy, a light breeze blowing through. Fireflies played in the darkness and crickets chirped in the silence between Peter and his partner.

Peter gave himself and Neal a few minutes to enjoy the peace before calling him back over to the patio.

“Sit with me.” Peter said, patting the space between his legs on the lounger.

Neal looked down at him uncertainly. “Come on,” Peter encouraged.

Neal placed his untouched glass of water on the table and sat down with his back to Peter keeping his feet planted firmly on the slate tiles. Neal was completely stiff, his shoulders tight and hunched. Peter snaked an arm around Neal’s waist and pulled him in to rest against his chest.

“Relax,” Peter whispered into Neal’s ear.

Neal’s body remained rigid. Peter kissed Neal behind his right ear. “Please Neal, we need to talk.”

Neal let out a breath, and the tightness in his body eased somewhat but it remained firm in his voice. “It’s okay Peter, really. I understand. You don’t have to pretend or explain anything. I’ll go back to June’s in the morning. I would appreciate it if we could continue our professional relationship.”

Neal started to pull away from Peter, but Peter wrapped his other arm around Neal, effectively anchoring his lover to him. “Oh Neal, have I really screwed things up that much?”

Neal twisted in Peter’s grip to face him. “No Peter, this wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I’m the reason that Keller came into your lives, yours and Elizabeth’s. It’s my fault.”

In the pale patio light Neal looked wretched. “I accept that. I know I can’t be a part of you and Elizabeth any more. I know it’s for the best; to keep you safe, both of you.”

Neal’s hand reached up and cupped Peter’s cheek. It felt so warm, so right to Peter. “It’s okay. I love you both enough to let you go.”

The strength and determination in Neal’s voice, even as tears slowly began to slide down the younger man’s face broke Peter’s heart.

“No, Neal please, that’s not what either of us want. I’m so, so sorry that I pushed you away after Keller took El. It was stupid and selfish and I never meant for you to believe that I blamed you or that I stopped loving you.”

Neal blinked and salt water from his tears sparkled in his eyelashes.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you.” Peter continued. “Please don’t allow my actions to push you away. None of this was your fault. Keller took El. Keller put you in the hospital. Keller is responsible for what happened over these past three weeks. Not you.”

“Don’t you see Peter? Keller never even knew your name until I became your C.I. And, he’s still out there. And, so are all the other criminals and cons who I’ve known. Who knows when someone else, someone even worse than Keller might come along to hurt you or Elizabeth because of me. I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t be responsible for that.”

Neal leaned in and kissed Peter lightly. “You have to let me go.” He breathed against Peter’s cheek.

“No, I don’t accept that. If you walk away from us now, Keller wins. I love you. Elizabeth loves you. I know I messed up. I know I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness or to expect you to stay after what I’ve done. But, I need you to. Elizabeth and I both need you to. Our lives haven’t been the same since you came along Neal and they never will be again. Don’t ask us to go back. Don’t ask us to pretend that we’re better off without you. It isn’t true. It could never be true.”

Peter put his hand on top of Neal’s where it still rested on his cheek. “Please,” he pleaded. “Stay with us.”

Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Peter still loved him. Despite everything, the treasure, Keller, what had happened to Elizabeth, Peter still loved him, still wanted him. Neal felt the darkness that had held him like a vise ease. He looked up again. Peter’s face was partially in shadow but Neal could see Peter’s eyes shining brightly with sincerity and love.

“I can’t. Please understand, this is the best thing for all of us. You and Elizabeth, you’ll be fine. You have each other, you always will.”

Neal pulled his hand away and then gently pulled Peter's arm from around his waist.  "I love you Peter, you and Elizabeth.  Kate died because I couldn't protect her from my past.  I only survived losing her because of the two of you.  If something happens to either of you because of me..."

Neal shrugged and swiped at the tears running freely down down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Neal rose on unsteady legs and walked back into the house. Elizabeth turned from where she stood at the sink washing the dishes. She saw his red eyes and the tears marring his cheeks. “Neal?”

He smiled weakly at her. “Goodbye El.”

Neal kept moving through the house to the front door. His hand was shaking as he gripped the knob and pulled the door open. He hesitated briefly his heart warring with his head and then he was gone, out onto the street.

El found Peter still sitting on the lounger staring off into the darkness of the yard. He looked stunned and bereft. “Peter, Neal just walked out the front door. What happened?”

Peter swallowed back his grief and then slowly focussed on his wife. “I lost him El. I pushed him away. I made him feel responsible for Keller’s actions. He walked away to protect us.”

***

Neal had no memory of the trip back to June’s. He managed it entirely on autopilot and was grateful that he had arrived without tripping his anklet somehow. When he reached the apartment, he turned off his phone, left it on the kitchen table and headed out to sit on one of the lounge chairs on the balcony. He didn’t want to talk to anyone and he was glad that Peter would not be expecting him at the office for at least the next week. It would give them both time to come to terms with their new reality. A clean break would be the best thing for all of them. He knew that his decision would be difficult for both Peter and Elizabeth, but as he told Peter they had each other. They would be okay.

Eventually, Neal fell asleep where he sat lulled by the sounds of the traffic coming up from the streets below.

The sun was fairly high in the sky when Neal startled awake. He had a crick in his neck and the pounding in his head was on the higher end of the post-concussion headache scale. He squinted at the brightness of the midsummer light and struggled to figure out what had woken him.

There were voices coming from inside his apartment. He stood up slowly, careful not to bring on a bout of dizziness or crank his headache up. 

Through the French doors he could see Peter futzing with his espresso machine and Elizabeth setting the table, a plate of bagels, a bowl of cut fruit and several tubs of flavored cream cheese were already set out.

Elizabeth was laughing softly at Peter as he cursed at the steamer on the machine.

Neal reached the door unnoticed bewildered by the sight of his former lovers in his apartment engaged in such normal everyday activities.

Elizabeth looked up and saw him standing there. “Hey, sweetie you’re up. Could you please come help Peter with the espresso machine. I swear he’s going to burn his eye out in a minute.”

“What are you doing here?” Despite the obvious, Neal couldn't understand what Elizabeth and Peter were doing in his apartment after the conversation he had had with Peter just last night.

“You left your medication at our house. We thought we would bring it by for you.” El replied picking up the prescription bottle from the table and giving it a little shake. “You should probably take one of these before we eat.”

Neal stayed in the doorway trying vainly to process what was happening in his apartment.

“Ack!” Peter cursed as he pulled his slightly scorched hand away from the steamer.

Elizabeth snorted at her husband. “Seriously sweetie, please save Peter from himself.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Mmm?” Elizabeth responded not looking up from where she was laying out utensils at each place setting.

“Why are you here?”

Elizabeth looked up her eyes sparkling with determination as they met Neal’s. “Because we love you Neal.”

Peter abandoned the espresso machine and joined his wife at the table. “We talked about it after you left last night and we’re not giving you up. It’s not just your decision to make and our two thirds majority decided that we want you in our lives.” There was steel in Peter’s voice. We’re not letting you go Neal.”

Head shaking Neal finally entered his apartment. “No, no this isn’t a democracy, Peter. This was my decision. Please, I need you to respect it.” Neal pleaded. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Neal kept the table between himself and the Burkes hoping the physical separation would provide some emotional distance too.

“You’re right Neal, it’s not a democracy. It’s a relationship. That means that we, all three of us, are in this together, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.” Peter blatantly ignored Neal’s attempt to keep some separation between them and moved around the table to stand before Neal. “Nowhere in that vow do you find the words until someone decides to fall on his sword.”

“That’s what you think I’m doing?” Peter’s blunt statement made Neal realize that he hadn’t looked at the situation from that perspective before. Maybe there was some truth to the idea that he was too intent on taking the blame, consequences be damned.

Peter nodded. “We don’t want your nobility Neal, we want you. And we’re not taking no for an answer.”

Peter stepped into Neal’s personal space. “Do you remember what you said to me just before we got into the truck to drive to the storage facility when Keller had El?”

Neal nodded.

“You promised me that we would find her, that you loved us too much to see things end any other way. You kept your promise Neal. You brought her home to us.”

Peter looked over at his wife. She smiled encouragingly at him. “Well, I promised El that I would fix what I broke when she disappeared, that I would fix what I did to us. I love you both too much to see this end any other way. Don’t make me break my promise, Neal.”

Peter took Neal into his arms. “I can’t live without you.” He whispered.

Neal felt his resolve shatter like glass in Peter’s embrace. “You promised Elizabeth?” He asked haltingly.

Peter nodded into Neal’s neck. “I did.”

“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you breaking your word to your wife.”

Neal could feel Peter’s lips curve into a smile. “No, you wouldn’t. She could take us both out with a spatula if she wanted to.”

“And don’t either of you ever forget it.” El said as she wrapped her arms around Neal from behind joining the three of them together once and for all.


End file.
